Pool of Radiance_ Ruins of Myth Drannor - Carrie Bebris [54]
Kestrel prepared to hurl the magical blade again. Though the cultist’s wavering image became increasingly hard to discern through the smoke, she thought she saw him glance at the floor off to one side. She followed the direction of his gaze. There, forgotten in the fray, lay the skeletal arm bearing the Ring of Calling. The chief sorcerer seemed to be moving toward it as he avoided another of Corran’s blows.
Kestrel glanced at her companions. Jarial unleashed an incantation on his rival, sending another acidic arrow through the air to silence the sorcerer for good. Ghleanna also appeared in the process of casting a spell, this one at the leader. She squinted through the smoke, trying to fix her sight on him. Durwyn had just finished off the blinded mage and stood not far from the skeletal arm.
“Durwyn-the ring!” Kestrel cried. “Pick up the ring!”
Durwyn scanned the floor, spotted the arm, and rushed toward it. The cult leader’s voice increased in volume, sounding as if he were nearing the end of the spell he wove. As Ghleanna spoke the final word of her own spell, his shifting image solidified. The cultist stood only feet from the ring. He uttered the final thunderous syllable of his spell and reached for the skeletal arm.
Durwyn snatched it first. The sorcerer shrieked in anger.
And disappeared.
* * * * *
Knowing the cult sorcerer could return any moment with reinforcements, the party did not tarry in the Room of Words. Kestrel, Corran, and Jarial quickly downed blueglow moss potions for their injuries, and the band headed back through the tower to the dungeons.
They reached the Circle of Mythanthor-their gateway out of the dwarven undercity and up to the surface of Myth Drannor. Kestrel could feel the adrenaline pumping through her as they all gathered beside the golden circle on the floor. As much as she’d resisted joining this mission, she was swept up with the others in the excitement of at last completing the first stage of their quest. Finally, they could leave the dark dungeons behind them.
Durwyn handed Ghleanna the skeletal arm. She traced her fingertips around the Ring of Calling, lingering on the starstone gem. Then she tilted her chin up, closed her eyes, and spoke the Word of Oblivion in a steady, clear voice.
“Resheshannen!”
The bones crumbled to dust, leaving only the ring in the sorceress’s hand. The white starstone sparkled in the torchlight as Ghleanna slipped it on her finger. “Come,” she said. “Let us leave the darkness.”
One at a time, they entered the circle. Ghleanna crossed the boundary last. The moment she stepped inside, a sphere of light appeared and hovered before them. It widened until it reached the size and shape of a doorway. Sunlight shone through from the other side, where Kestrel could make out the towering spires and elaborate architecture of the ruined but still impressive Heights of Myth Drannor. In the distance, the parapets of Castle Cormanthor rose toward the sky as if seeking release from the evil that gripped the fortress.
The city surface-and with it, Mordrayn and Pelendralaar-awaited.
BOOK TWO
Myth Weaver
CHAPTER EIGHT
As the party emerged into full daylight, Kestrel squeezed her eyes shut, then forced open two narrow slits. After days spent in the dim torchlight of the dwarven undercity, the sudden brightness of the sun’s rays stung her eyes. Several minutes passed before she could open her lids wide enough to behold Myth Drannor’s acropolis.
They entered the Heights at the base of a large statue of a wizard. The elderly elven spellcaster was half-enveloped in a finely-woven mantle, its threads seemingly swirling about him. He stood with his hands thrust skyward and his head thrown back, an expression of intense concentration or ecstasy-Kestrel could not tell which-etched on his face. The pedestal on which the statue rested bore the name “Mythanthor.”
Behind them, the Speculum